“Sure,” Genesis says to Luke, but I can tell that’s not the last I’ll hear of this. “We’re not very selective anyway, are we?” She glances from Pen to Holden, who is audibly grinding his teeth.

Luke flushes, and I already regret telling him he could come.

My cousin and her friends are going to eat the poor boy alive.

65 HOURS EARLIER

GENESIS

“So, where is this ancient ruin, exactly?” Neda asks as she pushes a branch out of her way.

“It’s not on the tour circuit.” Nico flips open his water bottle as he steps over an exposed root. “Not many people go, because the hike is kind of a pain.”

I shoot him an angry glance; why would he tell her that?

“Hey,” Ryan says, when Neda’s groan begins to resemble a wildcat’s growl. “Think of exploring this ruin as the sightseeing equivalent of an early glimpse at the new Manolo Blahnik scarf.”

Neda laughs. “Manolo Blahnik doesn’t make scarves.”

“Or maybe he does, but no one knows yet. Anyone can go to the beach, but not just anyone can go see the Manolo Blahnik scarf of ancient ruins. After you go, everyone will want to go.”

Neda laughs again. Ryan’s logic is ridiculous, but she’s smiling now. Better yet, she’s not complaining.

“Hey, who’s that old guy?” Domenica whispers as she hangs back to walk with us. “The one with a never-ending supply of pot.” She nods at the cluster of stoners keeping Holden blissfully oblivious of anything but his own buzz.

“I’m calling him Rog,” I tell her. “For Random Old Guy.”

“He’s, like, some kind of professional loser,” Penelope adds, and I can tell from the way she keeps glancing at me that she’s testing the waters of our friendship. Waiting to see if I’ll try to drown her. “He looks like he’s been wandering around the jungle for years.”

“Maybe he lives out here, hiking from campsite to campsite, trading weed for food so he doesn’t starve,” Neda suggests with a giggle.

“Or maybe he betrayed his friends, so they left him out here to wander until he dies all alone,” I counter, looking right at Penelope.

She flinches and looks away.

“Rog it is,” Neda says. “Judging from the cloud of smoke he lives in, I doubt he even remembers his real name.”

Rog turns and exhales a ring of smoke. “I’ve forgotten a lot of things—most of ’em on purpose—but my name isn’t one of them. Never really liked it, though.” He shrugs and taps ash from the end of his joint. “I could answer to Rog.”

The old guy turns back around, and Neda gives me a wide-eyed, embarrassed look.

Indiana laughs out loud.

The minute the Ecohabs come into sight, Maddie stops to look up at them with a dramatic sigh. “What a waste,” she says, while the rest of us pass her. “We didn’t even sleep there.”

Penelope shrugs. “Once you pay for the rooms, they’re yours to do whatever you want with.”

Maddie stomps down the trail after us. “That is such a typical American philosophy of waste and entitlement. The money spent to rob some other poor tourists of their vacation plans means nothing to you because you have plenty of it. They lost their hotel room for no reason.”

“You do know you’re American too, right?” Neda says as she slaps at another mosquito on her leg.

“Fortunately, we don’t all fit the stereotype,” Maddie snaps.

“What you call a waste is actually a conservation of the local resources,” I tell my cousin.

“How on earth do you figure that?” Maddie demands.

“Since no one was in our rooms, no water was wasted washing towels and beddings. Which means less detergent was emptied into the local water source, and less electricity was used.”

“And the staff had less work to do, yet they still got paid,” Indiana adds with a shrug.

I give him my brightest smile. “I’d call that one a win for everyone. Including the environment.”

Maddie’s mouth opens and closes for a second, as if her shock needs a way to escape her body. She’s still staring at me when I settle into the hike, feasting on private satisfaction.

A minute later, Indiana falls into step beside me.

“Just how far off the grid are we?” Holden asks through a cloud of smoke, as our narrow path begins to climb,

“The grid isn’t an actual thing, mono.” Nico is breathing easily, in spite of the exercise and the increase in altitude. “So I can’t judge our distance from it.”

I savor Holden’s scowl as I pull myself uphill with a good grip on the nearest thin branch.

Penelope props one foot on a fallen log and reaches back for the bottle of water strapped to the side of her pack. “So, if someone were to get hurt, how long would it take the rescue team to get here?”

Nico chuckles. “What makes you think they’d find us?”

64 HOURS EARLIER

MADDIE

“Please tell me that’s a joke.” Neda stares out at the jungle with mistrust. As if it hasn’t been dangerous all along.

Genesis rolls her eyes. “Of course it’s a joke.” But she directs a questioning look to Nico for confirmation, and suddenly I’m uneasy about how deep into the jungle we might actually be.

We didn’t tell anyone where we were going.

That’s my cousin’s standard operating procedure, not mine. I was so eager to get away from Benard and the drama on the beach that I let Genesis herd us into the jungle without even trying to get a message to Abuelita.

Nico shrugs at Genesis. “You said you wanted remote and private.” And again, she’s gotten exactly what she wanted. But unlike soldiers and park staff, snakes and caiman can’t be bribed.

Still, Nico is a real tour guide. Right? He knew most of the soldiers on patrol at the park.

“We’ll be fine,” I insist as I pull my water bottle from my pack and charge ahead.

When the trail flattens out a few minutes later, our hike develops its own rhythm. We actually make decent progress until we come to a stream rushing quickly downhill. Sunlight gleams on the surface from overhead.

“It’s not very deep, but the rocks get slippery,” Nico says. “So set your feet carefully.”